


Man's Best Friend

by HaniTrash



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash
Summary: A sequel to Unexpected*, in which Hannibal catches a major case of The Feels, lol.After having sent Bedelia packing and reconciling with Hannibal, Will and Hannibal are roommates in Florence. Hannibal feels that it's time to move on. He takes Will to the opera before they leave Florence, where he manages to upset Will greatly. To make up for it, Hannibal has quite the surprise waiting for Will when they arrive at their new home.* Note: you do NOT need to read Unexpected if it's not your thing in order to be able to follow this and understand what's going on. That one is gritty. This one is like, 98% fluff. :)





	1. Chapter 1

“Why do I have to wear this?”

“Because it is the opera, my dear William. In Florence. A department store suit is most certainly not sufficient attire.”

Will sighed and looked down at the elderly gentleman with his hand in Will’s crotch.

“A little straighter, please, sir, if you could. I must have an accurate measurement,” he said in his thick accent.

Will swallowed his displeasure and straightened his posture even more, jaw clenching at the momentary discomfort from his lower back. Hannibal had damn near broken Will’s spine the previous night with the position he’d contorted him into. Although, the results had been worth it, he had to admit. He felt a faint blush creeping up his neck and quickly tamped down his body’s response to the memory.

“You owe me for this,” he grumbled, glaring at Hannibal. There was no real malice in his words, though, and Hannibal knew it, gauging from the delight dancing in the man’s eyes.

“Of course, Will,” he agreed, dipping his chin slightly in agreement, one corner of his mouth tipped up into a grin.

It had been a month now since Will had surprised Hannibal at the apartment and sent Bedelia packing. The first few days had been spent tending to the wounds Will had given Hannibal during his catharsis, while Hannibal dealt with his own emotional carnage brought on by Will’s actions. Then Hannibal had returned to work while Will explored the city—sometimes going places Hannibal recommended, other times just wandering. Their evenings were spent in comfortable companionship as Hannibal filled in all the missing pieces of his past. They simply existed, together, roommates in separate rooms, and it was enough.

Until last night.

They hadn’t been physically intimate since the first day. It had started innocently enough—both reaching for the wine bottle at the same time, hands touching. Will had straightened, murmuring an apology, and found Hannibal’s face a hair’s breadth from his. The next thing he knew, they were backing through the apartment as they kissed, feverishly tearing clothes from one another as they went, leaving a trail to Hannibal’s bed. Will had woken curled around Hannibal in a tangle of sheets and limbs, emerging from the best sleep he’d had since being sedated in the hospital.

Somehow, in that haze of early morning waking and endorphins, he’d agreed to be fitted for a tuxedo and attend an opera in the near future. Which is how he now found himself on display, being fussed over and dressed like a doll as Hannibal selected fabrics and cuts and all things foreign to Will and his upbringing. Seeing how happy it made Hannibal made it worthwhile, and Will pretended to not be bothered by the expense when Hannibal paid for everything in cash.

 

******

 

“Allow me to introduce my dear friend, Winston McKay.”

Will flinched, caught off guard by the false name Hannibal offered.

“How very nice to meet you,” said the elderly woman, extending a hand dripping with diamonds. Will took it, bending low to press a kiss to the back of it. As he did, he shot Hannibal a look that he hoped conveyed every bit of his anger at the man. When he stood, however, he was all smiles.

“The pleasure is mine, signora Petrazzouli. I was fortunate enough to run into Roman while vacationing here in your lovely city. Then poor Lydia took ill, and Roman so graciously offered her seat to me, knowing my love for the opera.”

Will turned and walked with her—and her young, attractive granddaughter—on their way to their seats. He sat in stony silence, ignoring Hannibal’s attempts to catch his eye. During the intermissions, Will spoke with anyone and everyone who wasn’t Hannibal, paying particular attention to the younger miss Petrazzouli, who’d clearly taken an interest in Will. It was petty, but it gave him a perverse sort of pleasure to anger Hannibal and make him jealous, even if Will had no intentions of following through with the young lady. When the show ended, Will didn’t wait for Hannibal, but instead followed the crowd through the front doors and out into the cool night air.

A few patrons nodded or waved to him as they passed and he returned the greetings, ever mindful of his manners, of keeping appearances for Hannibal’s sake, despite his anger at the man. Will waited until he’d made it a good distance from the entrance before lighting a cigarette. He was agitated. Smoking wasn’t any better of a coping mechanism than drinking, but it was more socially accepted than walking around shitfaced. And right now, he’d love nothing more than to have a bottle in his hand.

Of course, if he did have one, he’d probably bash Hannibal over the head with it.

Though he knew the way back to the apartment, he still chose to wait for Hannibal. The man had become surprisingly emotional concerning Will, and Will didn’t feel like handling the empathic fallout if Hannibal had to go searching for him. So instead, he lounged against a low stone wall and watched the door for Hannibal’s exit. It wasn’t overly long before he appeared, surrounded by doting admirers. Will didn’t miss the tension on his face and in his posture, little tells that would be imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know Hannibal the way Will did. He also didn’t miss the way in which it all released the moment Hannibal spotted Will.

Will gave Hannibal the slightest of nods in acknowledgment, and held eye contact as he took a final drag off the cigarette, one eyebrow raised slightly in a cocky jest. _Want your roast with a side of carcinogens, doctor?_ While Will was fairly certain Hannibal no longer entertained ideas of killing and eating him, he found it surprisingly difficult to quit smoking now that he’d started again. And he was actually enjoying being sober, with only the occasional social drink here and there. A life on the run with Hannibal inherently came with a shortened life span, he figured smoking wouldn’t make much difference at this point.

At last Hannibal made his way to Will. He approached slowly, cautiously, as if trying to gauge how much anger Will still held.

“Shall we?” Hannibal asked, canting his head in the direction they needed to walk. “The night is clear and it’s not far. Or would you rather wait for a taxi?”

Will cleared his throat.

“Walking is fine.” Without waiting, he rose and headed down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets.

“Did you enjoy the performance?” Hannibal asked hesitantly as he fell in step beside Will.

“Yours, or the opera?”

Hannibal didn’t reply, and a glance showed his jaw firmly clenched.

“I clearly have upset you somehow.”

“Winston?” Will spat the name out, an explanation and accusation all at once. “Is that all I am to you, a lost dog you took in?”

Hannibal stopped. Will turned to face him, and met a look of genuine surprise.

“How did you expect me to feel, when you called me that?” His voice caught, and Will swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. “When every person I spoke to called me that all night?”

“Oh, Will,” he said softly. Hannibal stepped closer, lifting his hands to cup Will’s face. “Not a stray. A loyal best friend. A treasured companion. Someone who saved me.” Hannibal’s thumb swiped at the errant tear making its traitorous way down Will’s cheek. “I thought you would understand. It was careless of me to choose that name. You miss them, don’t you?”

“Terribly,” Will sniffed. He’d already befriended some of the dogs in the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the same.

“What happened to them?”

“They’re with Jimmy. Alana is in no condition still to take care of that many animals. He’s not _that_ bad,” Will added at the face Hannibal made. “I know Jimmy is a little odd, but we all are. He likes them, and more importantly, they like him.” Will took a shuddering breath. “I’ve tried not to think about it too much, but staying with you means leaving them. For good.”

“And I called you Winston.”

“And you called me Winston.”

Hannibal pulled Will close, held him tightly, pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Hannibal, someone might see...”

“Let them see. You are more important.”

Will let himself melt into Hannibal’s shoulder, let the sadness overwhelm him.

“This isn’t the place for this,” he said finally, words muffled by the expensive material he was trying not to cry on. Hannibal hummed his agreement.

“It certainly isn’t the place for me to apologize properly. Or to thank you for indulging me this evening. I never did tell you how absolutely splendid you look tonight.” He nipped Will’s ear, dragging his teeth along the lobe. “I wanted to devour you the moment you stepped from your room.”

“Christ,” Will gasped, pushing himself away from Hannibal’s body. It was either that or have one very public display in a moment. He ran his hands through his hair. Though their interactions and touches had grown more comfortable, more intimate over the past weeks, they hadn’t been together carnally again except for that one time. Will still didn’t know how to categorize their relationship, and his physical reactions to Hannibal continued to bewilder him.

He’d accepted the emotional reactions the morning after they’d had their reckoning.

“We—, we should go.” He suddenly felt very awkward, and extremely exposed. Hannibal smiled knowingly at Will, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t bother turning any lights on when they entered the apartment. Once through the door, Will headed directly for Hannibal’s room. Hannibal was right on his heels, and when Will moved to start undressing, Hannibal stayed his hands. Curious, Will allowed Hannibal to stop him, but didn’t say anything. He circled Will, trailing his fingers lightly over his body, eyes taking in every inch of him.

“You look even better than I had imagined you would,” Hannibal said finally as he eased the jacket from Will’s shoulders.

“A far cry from the discount clothing you found me in when we first met,” Will replied with a grin.

“But still that same dreadful cologne.”

Will laughed as skilled fingers undid the cufflinks and bowtie, placing them on top of the bureau.

“It’s okay to admit that you like it, you know,” he teased.

“I will admit that I have grown accustomed to it, and nothing further.”

His shirt was unbuttoned and pulled free of his pants, but not removed. Hannibal knelt before him, hands gliding down Will’s legs before untying and removing his shoes. Having Hannibal undress him was surprisingly arousing, and Will did nothing to suppress the feelings. It did not go unnoticed by Hannibal, who palmed Will’s growing erection through his pants before removing them.

“Tell me something, Will,” Hannibal began. Will knew him well enough by now to know that he was being distracted, that Hannibal was likely going to ask him something that he didn’t want to answer, but would anyway because he was too busy paying attention to Hannibal’s hands on his cock.

“What?” he asked, playing along.

“Why do you spend as little time as possible in your room? Why did you come directly to mine just now?”

“It’s not my room. It never will be. It’s—” he broke off into a moan as Hannibal took Will deep into his mouth. “It’s Bedelia’s room,” he manged to finish, eyes closed.

“I thought perhaps that was how you felt.” He swirled his tongue around the head, teasing through the slit. “You should know that you are welcome to share my bed every night, if you so desire. No expectations. I enjoy your companionship.”

Will’s breath hissed through teeth as Hannibal continued to lick and suck. He fisted a hand in Hannibal’s hair. The action seemed to spur Hannibal on, as the man redoubled his efforts. Teeth scraped along his shaft, and Will shuddered at the sensation. His hips seemed to move on their own, and he found himself rocking, thrusting into Hannibal’s mouth.

“Hannibal,” he gasped. Will looked down, and met Hannibal’s hungry gaze. “ _Fuuuu_....” he was unable to finish the word as his orgasm ripped through him. Hannibal drank him down like a man dying of thirst in the desert, and Will didn’t miss the small sounds of pleasure that came from him as he swallowed every last drop of cum that he could milk from Will.

“You taste magnificent, Will,” Hannibal said as he stood and embraced him, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Will held on to Hannibal’s neck when at last they parted.

“I think it’s time for bed,” he said with a smile.

Hannibal gave a slight nod, and finished undressing Will before he removed his own clothes and carefully placed the tuxes on hangers.

“You know, I _am_ capable of taking care of my own clothes. Just because I’ve never had such fancy ones doesn’t mean anything.” Hannibal glanced at Will while silently finishing his task, an amused grin on his face.

“Besides,” Will continued as he stared at their clothes hanging side by side in Hannibal’s closet, his stomach making nervous flips at how right they looked there, together. “They’re from you,” he said softly. His eyes met Hannibal’s, and Will was relieved to see the same emotion shining in the brown depths.

“That is reassuring to hear. You should know, however, that I enjoy taking care of you, doing things for you. I like to make you happy. I find your smile and joy infectious, and my own are much intertwined with yours.”

“Hannibal.” It was a statement, delivered flatly and with only a touch of annoyance.

“Yes, Will?” He feathered soft kisses along Will’s shoulder and neck.

“I’m a grown man.”

“ _Mmmm_ , that you are,” he agreed, palming Will’s cock as it began to harden again. “And you’re _mine._ I take care of what is mine. It pleases me to do so. With painstaking attention to detail. Which is why, tonight, I want you to fuck me.”

Will gasped, loudly, shocked more by the profane language than the suggested activity.

Hannibal was trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably. His amusement at Will’s reaction was displayed clearly in the lines at the corners of his eyes and the stupid grin twisting his lips.

“Is there a problem, Will?”

Will searched Hannibal’s eyes, his breath growing quick and shallow.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

Hannibal seemed to understand immediately, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilated. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he emphasized the word.

“ _Fuck_ me, Will.”

Will’s mouth fell open as he panted. Hannibal’s hand tightened around him, stroking him while he spoke.

“I want you to _fuck_ me. I want to feel this _cock_ inside me. I want you to—”

Will cut off Hannibal’s words with a fierce kiss. There was something about hearing the words fall from Hannibal’s lips—lips that never stooped to such vulgarity, lips that had won Will over with softly spoken lies hidden between the gentle reassurances of friendship—that drove Will crazy. He grabbed the hair at the back of Hannibal’s head and tugged hard, finally breaking the kiss.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Trying to help me reclaim myself in relation to you, after what happened earlier, by offering yourself to me?” He ran his tongue over the scar he’d left on Hannibal’s shoulder. “As if I’m not capable of taking you for myself?” He traced his fingers along the scar he’d carved into Hannibal’s abdomen. Hannibal shuddered, a small sigh escaping him as he seemed to melt beneath Will. A new understanding dawned in Will’s head. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around Hannibal’s throat.

“Or is it something more? Something you're afraid to give voice to?”

He watched Hannibal’s nostrils flare.

“More,” he whispered, holding Will’s gaze firmly.

“What a fucked up pair we are,” Will murmured. Hannibal opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, Will spun, still holding onto to Hannibal’s head, and threw him onto the bed. Will followed him, covering his body with his own.

“Is this what you want? For me to take you like an animal?” he asked, grinding against the cleft of Hannibal’s ass. Hannibal arched into the motion.

“Yes,” he gasped.

Will’s gaze flicked up to the night stand and the bottle of oil on it. He brought his mouth to Hannibal’s ear.

“Get me the rope. And the oil. And then get back on the bed, on your knees, head down, arms out so I can tie them down.”

Hannibal’s breath hitched. The moment Will took his weight off him, he scrambled to comply with the orders. That simple act alone nearly broke Will’s composure. He was more than willing to give Hannibal what he wanted, but seeing just how desperately the older man craved it, something inside Will tightened until he thought he’d burst from the feeling he couldn’t name.

The last time he’d tied Hannibal down, it hadn’t been for pleasure. Will had been fueled by anger and rage, and a deep need for retribution. Hannibal had needed several days to recover. Now, Will gently wound one end of the rope around a wrist before threading it through the headboard and over to Hannibal’s other arm. He left enough slack in it that Hannibal could readjust his position for comfort, but it was still tight enough for him to feel restrained. Their gazes met, and Will did his best to swallow down the emotion choking him. The look currently on Hannibal’s face was one of bliss and pure happiness.

Will cleared his throat.

“Do you want a word or something?” he asked hesitantly.

“I only want you, Will. Do you truly think I’d stop you, deny you anything?”

Memories of Hannibal writhing in pain at Will’s hand, refusing to say no, to say stop, floated through Will’s mind as he studied the calm expression on Hannibal’s face.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Did you… Did you want a knife again, or…?”

“I want whatever you wish to give me, Will.”

Will closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. What he wanted … he’d give Hannibal what he wanted first, then worry about himself. He knelt on the bed behind Hannibal, letting the thrill of his willing submission fill him.

“You’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

A strangled noise came from Hannibal.

“I assume you’re used to denying yourself and controlling your … _desires_. You won’t come.”

Will poured a small amount of the oil into his hand and coated himself first before grasping Hannibal and stroking him.

“It wouldn’t take much, would it?” He taunted Hannibal, pleased with the moan that came from him. “I bet I can get you to beg me this time. Should we try? Can you beg for it, Hannibal?” Will pushed a slicked finger past the tight ring of muscle and watched Hannibal’s spine melt as he sagged into the mattress. After a moment he added a second finger, working his hands in a rhythm of stroking and thrusting, teasing at Hannibal’s prostate every few strokes.

“Please,” Hannibal gasped.

“Please _what_ , Hannibal? Remember, you have to be specific.” Will worked his fingers a few times, tormenting the man and enjoying every second of it. “I would have thought someone of your intelligence could recall something so very important.”

“I want—I _need—please,_ Will, I need you inside me. Fuck me. Please.” Hannibal’s voice quavered, and Will could see his arms shaking.

“Very good, Hannibal,” Will purred, praising him. He removed his hands and nestled his cock between Hannibal’s cheeks as he leaned forward. “See? Begging me isn’t so hard after all, is it?”

In one quick motion Will sank into him, burying himself to the hilt. Hannibal’s hips snapped up, meeting Will thrust for thrust as he rocked back against him. Will rose up and held onto him, controlling his movements.

“So greedy. I must say, I’m quite surprised by your desires, Doctor Lecter.”

“Will, please, I can’t—I need to— _please_.” Hannibal sounded absolutely desperate. Will withdrew and pushed him to the side.

“Over,” he growled, knowing there was just enough slack in the rope for it. Hannibal twisted himself onto his back, arms crossed above his head. Will kissed a path up Hannibal’s torso until he reached his mouth. As they kissed, he rolled his hips, their shafts sliding together between them.

Hannibal strained against the rope and Will stretched an arm up to tug at the end of the slip knot he’d tied. The second the tension released, Hannibal’s arms wrapped around Will. One hand threaded through his hair, holding the back of his head as their tongues dueled. The other arm went around his lower back, rope trailing behind, fingers digging almost painfully into his ass as Hannibal held him close.

"Will," Hannibal groaned.

"Yes," he replied.

It only took a few more thrusts after that before Hannibal’s head fell back, eyes closed as Will’s name escaped his lips in a trembling sigh. Will’s own release followed Hannibal’s and he dropped his head to Hannibal’s shoulder, biting his tongue to keep the words he wanted to say safely caged where they couldn’t hurt him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Will was comfortably tucked against Hannibal’s side, one hand splayed over his chest, absently stroking circles through the light hair there that was still damp with sweat. The sky outside the windows was a molten gold as the morning sun broke over the horizon. The opera had been two nights ago, and they’d barely left the bedroom all weekend.

He stretched languidly, rising up on onto an elbow to look at Hannibal’s face, finding the same contentment he felt being reflected back to him.

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked, brows quirking together, seeing the unspoken questions flitting through Will’s brain.

“I’m just … confused, I guess? Uncertain about some things?”

“Such as?”

“Well, where do we go from here, for starters, since everyone here thinks you’re _married_.”

Hannibal smirked at the intonation, the clear disdain for Bedelia.

“My guest lectureship is nearly completed. Then we shall leave Florence and start anew. Together.” He cupped Will’s cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. Will covered Hannibal’s hand with his own and turned into the caress, kissing the palm of Hannibal’s hand before kissing his wrist, lips feathering over the pulsepoint and the skin still bearing the rope marks from their early morning antics.

“I’m extremely curious about _this_ ,” he breathed.

“As am I,” Hannibal quipped, and Will lifted his head to look at him. Hannibal shifted his weight, rolling Will to his back and covering him with his body. “The concept of being restrained—and enjoying it—never crossed my mind. At least, not until your return.”

“The puppet master become puppet,” Will suggested.

“ _Mmm_. Do not discount your own role in this, though. Do you really believe that I would relinquish control to just anyone? Let someone else tug on the strings of my life?”

Their eyes locked, and that feeling that he might burst filled Will’s chest again as the air between them grew heavy with emotion. Their lips met just as the alarm on Hannibal’s phone chimed.

“Ignore it,” Will said, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s back. “One more hour,” he begged.

Hannibal sighed.

“You know I can’t.”

“You _can._ You just aren’t _capable_ of it.”

“Rude, William.”

Will laughed as Hannibal kissed him again while blindly reaching for the phone.

“I have a meeting this morning. Sadly, the rest of the world beckons. I’ve already stayed longer than I should have. I won’t have time to make you breakfast before I leave.”

“I’m sure I can manage to fend for myself. I do know how to cook.”

“Yes, you do. Rather poorly, I must admit.”

“Now who’s being rude?” Will shoved playfully at Hannibal’s shoulder. “Go. Get ready. I’ll start the coffee.”

 

****

 

That evening, they began the plans for their move in just a few short weeks. Hannibal already had a home waiting in Geneva, and they shipped several boxes ahead, as well as scheduling several items to delivered. Now that he’d fully accepted his feelings for the man, Will found the process of planning a life with Hannibal exhilarating. He was so wrapped up in the new one that he didn’t have time to think about his old one.

Until the emails from Jimmy came through.

Hannibal had gone out to get them dinner. They left the next afternoon, and had barely any food left in the apartment. Will had been cleaning all day, scrubbing down rooms they were finished with and closing them off so as to leave no evidence behind, and hadn’t felt like dining out—they’d be doing plenty of that for the next several days until the house was situated, and the idea of getting dressed properly right now was an exhausting one. He’d already set the table and opened the wine to breathe, and now sat on the balcony, relaxing with a cigarette and idly browsing on the tablet while waiting for Hannibal’s return.

Normally he went to the library to access his accounts, but with the move so imminent he was less concerned about being tracked. He logged into the jamming program and checked his email. It was an account that he’d created specifically for the journey, but there was the possibility someone might be watching it, especially if Jimmy had shared the information. If that was the case, the program he was using would lay a confusing and overlapping trail of IP addresses and locations, making it difficult to pinpoint his whereabouts.

Now, Will’s hands shook as he held the tablet and read the progression of emails from the last week. He jumped when Hannibal’s hand fell on his shoulder; he was so focused on the words on the screen he hadn’t heard him return.

“Will, is everything alright?”

“They’re gone!” he cried, and the words released the flood of tears just barely held in check. He stood and threw his arms around Hannibal, sobbing into his chest. Hannibal held him, cheek pressed to the top of Will’s head, murmuring soft reassurances.

“What happened?” he finally asked, and Will gestured to the discarded tablet, still too distraught to voice the words. Hannibal stretched an arm down and was silent for a moment as he read.

“Oh Will, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine where they got off to.”

Will sniffed as he straightened.

“I can’t be mad at Jimmy, it’s not his fault that his place was broken into and robbed. Of course the dogs would have run off. I just can’t believe that nobody has been found yet, even Winston is still missing. He’s been checking my house every day, but he didn’t go back there like he used to with Alana. Zoe is so small, she won’t survive the cold. And Buster is so damn stupid, he’ll get himself killed picking a fight with another dog or wild animal…”

His voice cracked, and without thinking he lit another cigarette as he paced. He tried to not smoke in front of Hannibal if at all possible, more out of courtesy than anything else. Even the first time he’d seen Will smoking, he’d never said a negative word about it, but Will had the distinct impression that he didn’t approve.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Will paused in his erratic pacing and faced Hannibal. He sighed, a slight smile curving the edges of his lips.

“I don’t think there is anything we can do. But thank you. I appreciate the thought and offer.”

“You look very anxious.”

“I feel like I should go back. I know, rationally, that I wouldn’t be able to do anything if I did, but I feel so helpless right now. And angry.”

Hannibal tipped his head, eyes scanning the street below them as he seemed to consider something.

“Are you looking for a way to vent that rage and frustration? Or do you wish to wallow in it and let the misery consume you?”

Will recognized the tone. Hannibal was assessing him, choosing his words carefully. It took Will a moment to follow the meaning behind them. Hannibal’s eyes glittered dangerously, a combination of malice and excitement. Will swallowed as a rush of adrenaline coursed through him when the understanding hit.

“Are you suggesting something different to wallow in? A menu change for this evening?”

Hannibal glanced up to the full moon. “Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Will? It’s so dark that it appears black.”

Will cocked his head. He hated how thrilling the idea was to him, hated himself for wanting to surrender to this impulse, hated how damn _good_ it made him feel when he killed someone. He hated Hannibal for knowing and accepting all of that without question, for the giddiness that came with that acceptance.

“Leave Florence with a parting gift? Something to remember us by?” Will asked. Hannibal plucked the forgotten cigarette from Will’s hand and extinguished it before he pulled him close.

“Yes,” he breathed, caressing Will’s cheek. Hannibal’s eagerness was clear, but he didn’t push Will to make a choice.

“You already have someone in mind?” Will refused to kill someone at random.

“Yes,” Hannibal confirmed, the same breathless reply. “In truth, I’d planned to go out after you went to sleep.”

“Whomever it is must be truly insufferable for you to have planned ahead of time.” Will wrapped his arms comfortably around Hannibal’s waist.

“You have no idea how difficult it has been to stay my hand in his presence,” Hannibal said with a wry grin. “The anticipation of dispatching him before I left this city has been thrilling. I can think of only one thing that would make this night even better.” His long fingers threaded through Will’s hair, tugging his head back while Hannibal kissed and nibbled at the spot on Will’s neck that never failed to send shivers down his spine.

There was a time—perhaps even as recently as a month ago—when Will would have believed Hannibal was referring to him, that he wouldn’t be leaving Florence alive. That thought no longer concerned him. Hannibal’s eager and willing submission had convinced him of that. Even if he was wrong, Will found that he didn’t care. One way or another, it was highly unlikely that he’d survive Hannibal—unless Hannibal willed it. He’d accepted that.

Will pulled away enough to meet eyes gone nearly black, darkened by lust. He knew his own pupils would be just as dilated.

“Show me,” he breathed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this next chapter up, I had some stuff to deal with in my personal life and my writing always suffers when I'm stressed! 
> 
> Also, I know I said this story would be mostly fluff, but, as usual, these two have their own damn ideas as to what is fluffy and refuse to follow my plans for the story and substitute their own...apparently we're going off murdering, lol *shrugs*


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal let out soft sigh, just shy of a moan but no less full of desire.

“You never cease to surprise and amaze me, my love.”

Will’s heart raced, a heady combination of adrenaline and lust flooding his system. He swallowed hard at Hannibal’s words, ignoring, as was Hannibal, the near-declaration that had just been uttered.

“We should have our dinner first, truthfully. It is already well past sunset, and you haven’t eaten much today. Your body will burn through your reserves quickly as the adrenaline stresses your system.”

“But—”

Hannibal pressed a finger to Will’s lips, silencing him.

“Hush. Trust me.”

Will opened his mouth and drew the tip of Hannibal’s finger in. Hannibal sucked in a breath, watching intently as Will’s tongue circled his finger.

“Wicked man,” he said, barely audible, as he pressed himself closer to Will. “But you won’t change my answer. Food first.” Withdrawing his hand, he gave Will a soft kiss. “I promise, the anticipation makes it even better. I want your first time to be perfect. I can’t have you nearly passing out on me, now can I?”

“You’re serious.”

“Deadly.” Hannibal grinned, and with a wink, returned to the interior of the apartment.

After a moment, Will followed him. He poured the wine as Hannibal quickly reheated their dinner on the stove, drinking half of his glass in one large gulp. Hannibal’s head turned ever so slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised.

“You worry too much, Will. Relax.”

“That’s what the wine is for,” he mumbled into the glass before taking another sip.

Hannibal paused, turned the heat off and set down the spatula he was using before he turned completely to face Will.

“If you have changed your mind about this, I accept that, Will. In the heat of the moment, in self-defense is one thing, but what we are discussing is quite different. If you are having trouble with that distinction, I certainly understand.”

“I’m having trouble with the fact that I’m _not_ having trouble with that distinction,” Will replied, finally meeting Hannibal’s eyes. Will watched as they dilated, even though Hannibal held himself and his breathing steady. He swallowed audibly before speaking, the only sign of how Will’s confession had affected him.

“I never should have left you behind,” Hannibal said softly, stepping forward to cup the back of Will’s head in what had become a routine gesture of affection between them. Will tilted his face up to Hannibal’s, meeting the kiss as Hannibal leaned in. It quickly grew heated, as Will remembered the first time Hannibal had him over the table he currently sat atop, and pulled Hannibal in tightly. Hannibal broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Wicked, wicked man,” he grinned. “You shall be my undoing.”

“And you’ll be smiling the whole way.”

Will could feel Hannibal’s smile as he nipped at Will’s lower lip before pulling away.

“I must say, they come much more readily in your presence. But our dinner will not hold up to a second reheating. Keep your wretched hands to yourself.”

“Says the person currently rocking their hips against mine,” Will retorted, squeezing Hannibal’s ass firmly. Hannibal’s laugh was light as he pressed a last, quick kiss to Will’s mouth before returning to the stove.

It was these moments, stolen together, Hannibal’s masks to the world all stripped away, joy radiating from every fiber of their beings, in which Will easily forgot all the terrible things they’d done to each other. Moments in which he could almost imagine acknowledging the emotion that threatened to suffocate him at at times, for all it’s strength. But he refused to give Hannibal that power. Perhaps it was one last act of defiance, or simply Will claiming his own space in relation to Hannibal, refusing to let the man consume him completely. Whatever it was, not for the first time, Will took mental notice of the feeling and then dismissed it once again. He would outlast Hannibal.

He turned his thoughts once more to the planned event of the evening. A part of him was kicking and screaming, railing against the rest of him, insisting that he should be affronted by the mere concept. Will paid it no mind, though, but instead observed with detachment. He was intrigued by his lack of remorse, by his excitement at the prospect.

Hannibal returned, carrying their plates, filled with some local favorite that Will couldn’t pronounce. He never questioned Hannibal’s food choices, let him pick their meals. It brought obvious enjoyment to him to watch Will taste whatever he’d prepared. Or, in tonight’s case, purchased. Hannibal had to lean around Will to set his own plate down.

“Shall I eat with you on my lap? Or will you take your seat?” he teased, brown eyes glittering with amusement.

“Hmm, now there’s an idea,” Will purred, grasping Hannibal’s shirtfront and pulling him in. “Maybe we can christen our new home in such a manner.”

A strangled moan came from Hannibal’s mouth as it closed over his.

“Truly, my undoing. You are sin and temptation and wickedness, wrapped in such a beautiful package. How can I say no to you?”

Will rubbed his cheek against Hannibal’s.

“You can’t,” he whispered into his ear. “And you fear that more than anything else. You fear your own reaction to me, as I fear mine to you. We each bring out the best and the worst of the other.” Will slid from the table to a standing position. “And we both enjoy it too much to do anything about it.” He trailed his hand across Hannibal’s stomach, over the scar he’d put there, as he edged away and went to his seat.

Hannibal’s chest heaved as he sucked in a deep breath. He remained standing for a few moments longer before taking his seat, across from Will.

“This is delicious,” Will said around a mouthful of food. He chased it down with some wine. “I hope the dining selections will be as equally satisfying in Geneva.” Hannibal watched Will intently, his expression hard to read. Will deliberately glanced down to Hannibal’s plate and raised his eyebrows. “Food’s getting cold, Hannibal. You wouldn’t want it to go to waste, now would you?”

The slightest twitch of one corner of Hannibal’s mouth gave him away, and Will laughed. Hannibal shook his head slightly, attempting to hide his smile by taking a bite of his pasta.

“So, tell me. Who are we to make a spectacle of tonight?”

At this, Hannibal made no attempt to hide his pleasure.

“Professor Sogliato, a boorish man who has sought to undermine me at every turn from the very first. Prejudiced against me, simply because I am not Italian, and therefore in his mind, cannot possibly be knowledgeable enough regarding Dante.”

“Ahh. And to which circle, then, shall we condemn him?”

Hannibal held Will’s gaze, a wry grin on his lips and open appreciation in his eyes.

“You understand my dilemma. And why I have had to wait so long. Of the two that come immediately to mind, neither is a quick preparation for display.”

“But you are prepared for it?”

“Yes.”

Will canted his head, studied Hannibal for a moment as he chewed.

“Will I need to bring a change of clothes?” he asked.

“Do you plan on becoming messy?”

“Do you?” Will retorted, and Hannibal laughed. “It’s a valid question, and you know it.” Hannibal’s mirth drew a similar smile from Will, as his words hadn’t held any anger.

“Finish your dinner, Will. We have much to do between now and our train tomorrow afternoon.”

 


End file.
